Birth of the King of Thieves
by Qatari-Penguin
Summary: 5000 years ago, Pharaoh Akunumkanon indirectly ordered the killing of 99 thieves to create the Millennium Items. What happened when the pharaoh's army arrived at the village of thieves and what four boys did to try and stop them...Bakura and 4 OCs


Disclaimer: The only things I own in this story are the names Aamen, Kero and Merron cuzI made them up.

Warning: I wrote this over a year ago...so sad...and Bakura's slightly strange...

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A brisk wind blew across the desert, sending a cool chill through the Kuru Eruna village. The wind carried about it an ominous feel, comparable almost to despair. This, however, meant little to the occupants of the village. People milled around the streets, tending animals and working in the fields bordering the Nile River. In the shadows of the village center lurked a small group of boys. They were teens, muscular and athletic, each tanned a deep bronze from the desert sun. One stood out from the others; he had, not a dark black, but silver-whitish hair and bright brown eyes. Dressed simply in a white kilt, he had the look of someone who has been mistreated. His appearance was deceiving, for he was one who could easily fend for himself. From the faces of the other boys, it was apparent that they respected him as their leader, one who had proven his power before them.

"It looks like Kero's gotten himself into trouble again."

A small boy, no older than twelve, crouched in a dark alleyway. His face was smudged with dirt and his arms were scraped, each rubbed raw. His clothes were tattered, hanging loosely on his thin frame. His hands were cut and bloody. He trembled and pressed against the building next to him, as though hoping to meld with the shadow it cast. A moment later, it became apparent why.

"That thieving brat, thinking he can steal from the fields! If I find him, I'll rip him apart!"

From where they stood, the teenagers could see both Kero and his pursuer. The man was one of the workers who tended the fields by the river. He was large and muscular and was very short tempered. The boys had learned quickly not to cross him. He wielded a sickle used for cutting papyrus reeds, though sickles dub well as weapons. Kero curled his knees to his chest and tried to make himself as small as possible.

"What do we do? Should we help?" The boys turned to their leader for guidance. He didn't answer right away, carefully planning what they were about to do.

"Leave Kero be. If we interfere now, we'll give away his position." The others gaped, but did as they were told. None were eager to take a beating meant for someone else.

"I found you, thief. I'll teach you to steal from the fields!"

It happened so fast Kero couldn't differentiate between bodies. The silver-haired boy had intercepted the blow and disarmed Kero's attacker. He now stood poised, ready to attack.

"Bakura!"

"It seems you are quite familiar with me. Would you like to try and attack someone at your fighting level, or will you just leave now?"

The man backed away and turned into the village center. Bakura's skills with a blade were a force to be reckoned with, and unarmed one would instantly fall. Though he was a strong fighter, Bakura never killed his opponents, leaving them to crawl away beaten and broken. His appearance hid it well, but inside Bakura had a good heart. He knelt before Kero, who was trembling.

"You have to be careful Kero. These are hard times for us. Stray too far out of line and you'll find yourself in more situations like that one, situations where I won't be able to help you. Come on. You can stay with us for now."

Bakura scooped Kero into his arms and carried him to the four other boys, who came out to greet their leader.

"That was amazing Bakura. I've never seenSharif back away from a challenge before. But you can't blame him. You're one of the best fighters this place's got."

Bakura nodded modestly and glanced down at Kero, who looked slightly calmer now that he was out of harm. His blue eyes were focused away from them, toward the river. Beyond that river lied Kero's home.

Kero had been only a child when he stowed away on a boat bound for Egypt from Rome. His parents had been killed in the Roman wars and, left to fend for himself, he hid on a boat in hopes that it would take him to a better life. When the boat reached Egypt, Kero was discovered and taken to the pharaoh. Pharaoh Akunumkamon was sympathetic and let him live at the palace. It was the palace guards who, angered by the Pharaoh's treatment to Kero, abandoned him in the desert to die. Their belief was that Akunumkamon, who at the time had no son, would make Kero his heir and later the pharaoh. Wandering alone for days, it was by accident Bakura found him, close to death. Bakura felt sympathy for Kero, being orphaned himself, and restored him to health. Bakura began to see Kero as a brother and allowed him to stay with him and the other boys from time to time. Kero was allowed to live in the village, though he had to steal for food.

"Five years have passed since Kero first arrived here." Bakura spoke to his friends later that night.

Kero had been taken to the Bakura's home and treated for his injuries. He was currently sleeping in the corner of the one room hut they all shared. Bakura and his friends Merron, Karin, Yosef, and Aamen all lived together, having either been orphaned or abandoned by their parents. They supported each other as a family and were very close. They were usually seen together, often being mistaken for a gang, though this was not the intention. For living alone, they made out well, always having enough to eat and shelter from the sun. Before they met, Bakura had been in poor condition, struggling for life. He owed his well being to his friends.

"What do we do now?" Aamen asked. "We can't just turn Kero loose out there tomorrow. He's not in any condition to live on the streets."

"There's not much we can do," Bakura admitted sadly. "As much as I try to convince him, Kero won't stay here any longer that he needs to. He said that if he were to depend on us all the time he would never learn to live on his own."

"The kid's got guts, I'll give him that, but he won't last the night withSharif after him. It reminds me of how you were Bakura, when we first met you. Reluctant to stay, wanting to live on you own, you were just like him." The others nodded their agreement.

"Well, maybe so, but still, I came around in the end. It doesn't look like Kero will come around though."

"But what's wrong with how it is now?" Merron broke in. "Kero stops by when he's desperate, we help him out, and he goes back to his own life. What's wrong with that?'

Bakura shook his head. "We won't stay in this village forever, you know that. When we leave, what then? There won't be anyone in this village that cares for Kero and he'll starve. No, we have to do something." Bakura glanced over at Kero's sickly form in the corner of the room. "I wish he'd just see that he's not alone out here."

Kero opened his eyes. He'd only been pretending to be asleep, trying to listen to as much of Bakura's conversation as he could. He'd heard everything he needed. Bakura just didn't understand. He didn't know what it was like to be the smallest, the person everyone picked on. The thing Kero wanted ever since he came to the village was to prove that he was able to hold his own. To be like Bakura, that was his dream.

"What's that?" Karin poked his head out the door. "It sounds like hoof beats."

A large black form appeared on the horizon, moving swiftly and quietly. Dust flew off the dry desert ground as the group approached. Karin couldn't determine who exactly they were, but he did see that the group separated into two parties, one riding straight, and the other circling around the other side of town.

"You might want to take a look at this Bakura." Bakura stepped outside and looked down the street. The group rode nearer, attracting the attention of the villagers who were still awake. People stepped outside to look, just as they had done. Kero sat up and moved to Bakura's side.

"What is it?" Kero stared intently at the group riding down the street. The lead horses carried flags bearing the symbol of Ra and the pharaohs. "They're the Pharaoh's army!"

It was true. The horses were adorned with gold facial armor and intricately woven saddles. They were all matching colors, a light brown with black legs and tails. The riders wore silver armor and carried swords. One rider stood out from the others. He wore no armor, but was dressed simply in a white robe. He rode in the center of the group, protected from all sides.

"Now is the time to hold your oaths of loyalty true! Do as the Pharaoh commands! Kill them all!"

"Oh no." Kero hid against Bakura's side. Bakura pulled him back inside and shut the door behind them.

"What do we do?" He whispered in hopes that they wouldn't be discovered. "They want to kill us." Bakura set Kero down alongsideYosef and Merron. "Get him out of here. Take the back exit; it'll leave you on the outskirts. Aamen and I will meet you later. Go!"

Bakura pulled a long spear out of the corner of the room and tossed it to Aamen. He then grabbed his own knife, strapped it to his belt, and grabbed his bow (A/N: It's a stick, that kind of bow). Bakura favored this weapon above the others. The end was carved in the shape of a falcon, something he'd done himself, and held a secret compartment in the falcon's beak. Inside was venom from a cobra. He'd never used the venom before, always being content with the blunt end of the stick, but desperate times call for desperate measures. If the army truly was out to kill him, he was sure to put up as much of a fight as he could.

"You ready?" Bakura asked Aamen. He stepped up alongside the door, Aamen crouched next to him. They waited apprehensively, aware of every noise as the soldiers raided the village. Bakura heard a scream and knew the killings had begun. Suddenly the village became alive with screams and curses. He heard a shout just outside the door that made his heart skip a beat.

"There's people in this one too! Bust in the door!"

Bakura and Aamen's eyes met for a minute and they both nodded. The door shook and fell, crashing to the ground. Bakura hesitated only for a minute, then sprung into action. He knocked the first man down and stabbed him in the base of the neck. The man went limp. Aamen ran his spear through the chest of another, sending blood splattering on the floor. One man tried yelling for reinforcements, only to be knocked unconscious by the butt of Bakura's bow.

"There're too many Bakura! We need to get out of here!" Aamen turned to him, momentarily changing his focus from the attackers. His one moment lack took its toll. A man swung his sword, slicing Aamen's arm to the bone from wrist to shoulder. His arm went limp and he dropped his spear. The next strike took his life. Bakura could only watch in horror as the man stabbed Aamen through the heart, spilling his blood on the street.

"Ninety-six of the ninety-nine have been sacrificed! Take the other lives! Fulfill the Pharaoh's wishes!"

Bakura felt something burn inside him, a mysterious rage toward the Pharaoh and his army. He was spurred into action and swung his bow wildly, striking and killing all who dared drift close. The men began to retreat, though not because of Bakura's fighting efforts. One man rode down the street, dragging 3 small forms behind him. Bakura froze, hoping it wasn't who he thought that was being dragged through the village.

"No. That can't…" His words trailed off into the stunned night air. It seemed as though time was working in slow motion. Everyone had frozen, watching the one rider, the only figure moving. He slowly rode by them, proudly displaying his catch. Bakura felt something inside him snap. He dropped to his knees, all his strength having flowed out of him. They had been caught. They hadn't reached the river.

As quickly as they came, the soldiers left, each trying not to be the last one at the scene. Bakura didn't notice them go. He was lost, lost in his own sorrow. They were gone. Everyone he'd ever cared about had just vanished over the course of 5 minutes. Hot, angry tears dripped down Bakura's cheeks, splashing on the ground below him. He swiftly brushed them away and stood up. This was what Akunumkamon wanted; for him to show weakness. Bakura glared at the palace in the distance, just making its appearance in the morning sunlight. He would show them all he wasn't weak. He'd kill the Pharaoh, and anyone who dared stand in his way.


End file.
